Counting the Cost
by Mounty Swiss
Summary: Law has to serve people and not vice versa. But how far are you ready to go if it is violated?
1. Chapter 1

**Counting the Cost**

_Law has to serve people and not vice versa. But how far are you ready to go if it is violated?_

_Crossover Ironside-SOSF_, _set Summer 1970_

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_Author's note: No continuity to my Ironside-stories intended. Thank you, Jodm, for correcting this story!  
_

* * *

Rookie Inspector Steve Keller from homicide San Francisco, and Sgt. Edward Brown, Chief Ironside's right hand man, were standing in front of a run-down honky-tonk.

"This looks as if it hasn't been used for years," Steve assumed.

"No longer than two months, but it wasn't a five-star establishment before that either. That the 'Tiger gang' has chosen it to be its headquarters didn't help any though."

Steve looked the façade up and down. The old brickwork was partly crumbling away, one of the windows was broken and the door was crooked.

"Steve, please stay here and cover the entrance while I go in, in case there are some newcomers. I know these kids. I don't want them to get into any trouble unnecessarily, and if we march in on them officially they might overreact and get exactly that."

Steve was not pleased about being left behind. But Sgt. Brown was more experienced than he was, and it was true that he knew the group. He wanted to try to bring them to reason privately. And he knew only too well that kids could get into a downward spiral once they had a brush with the law.

"Keep that safe for me, will you?" With that Ed thrust his .38 into Steve's hand.

"But Ed, aren't you going too far now?"

Ed shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. I hope not."

Steve understood that Ed didn't want to provoke the youngsters. That's why he wanted to face them without his weapon. But he thought that his colleague took a terrible risk doing so.

There was not much traffic in this back street and this late in the evening. Steve would see any approaching gang members from afar. Yet no one came by.

For a week Steve had been working with Ironside and Ed now: since his partner and mentor Lt. Mike Stone had gone to the hospital. Mike had declared Steve as "most promising newcomer", and with whom could this specific newcomer work while his mentor was away? With the best teacher of course, and that was doubtlessly Robert T. Ironside, the ex-Chief of detectives, a paraplegic since he had stopped a bullet three years ago. Steve was still more than a little proud of his unofficial title and his position 'ad interim'. Unfortunately for him, pretty policewoman Eve Whittfield, who also belonged to Ironside's staff, was on a holiday. But Steve had taken a liking to earnest, level-headed Sgt. Brown who he had been working with most of the time. Steve could learn a lot not only from his brilliant boss but also from the Sergeant himself about patient, thorough police-work.

Today's assignment showed him a different side of these two men: They cared deeply about people. The kids in the restaurant had come in contact with drugs. The Chief's team was supposed to find out where they got the stuff. But if there was a possibility to keep those kids out of the machinery of jurisdiction they would try to find it.

Steve was wondering how Ed was faring with the 'Tiger gang'. Quietly he opened the door of the shabby restaurant, hoping that he would not get in Ed's way. He didn't. The door didn't lead directly into a barroom but onto a kind of balcony. From there, an open stairs went down. The taproom was situated in the basement of the house. Steve startled at the noise he heard: the unmistakable sound of a fight!

The young Inspector felt the urge to run down the stairs and help his colleague who had to be in trouble. Yet he restrained himself. Brown might not be pleased if he just bolted in without understanding what was going on.

Furtively he looked through the railing of the balcony. In the dimly lit room below, he spotted Ed Brown fighting with six – no, seven - youngsters simultaneously. It was a striking sight. Of course all of them could not attack him at once, and each of them was shorter than Ed's six feet two. Nevertheless Steve was stunned at how easily he seemed to keep them at a distance, especially since some of them outweighed him.

Strange, thought Steve. For such a tall man, he moved amazingly fast, although he was too lanky to look graceful. The teenagers didn't stand a chance against the ex-marine. Already one of them retreated, rubbing his wrist. Another pressed his handkerchief against his bleeding nose – not because of a direct hit, for Ed tried not to do any real harm, but because another boy had bumped into him.

"Hey, don't you think that this is enough now?" Ed asked, hardly out of breath.

His plan hadn't worked out the way he'd had in mind, but obviously he still hoped to keep the affair unofficial. Some of the kids looked questioningly at one another. Yet unseen by the Ed, the largest of his adversaries – actually he had to be in his mid-twenties already – grabbed a chair from a nearby table and smashed it against the Sergeant's back with considerable force. The young detective fell like a felled tree. Now the kids recovered their courage and seemed about to kick the helpless man.

Keller reacted instantly. He pulled his gun and shouted downwards: "Stop! Raise your hands and step away from the man!" His voice sounded authoritative enough to make the youngsters obey immediately. Only the older man looked up and hesitated as he became aware of the fact that the guy on the stairs seemed to be hardly older than himself. "Oh come on, don't put on airs. This is a cop!"

"And so am I."

This did the trick. The man backed off.

Carefully keeping his gun pointed at the group – and especially at the oldest one – Steve walked down the stairs.

Ed had been right, he thought. The boys were looking wild with the death's heads and crooked crosses on their clothes, but none of them seemed to be carrying a gun – with one exception perhaps. They were no criminals, at least not yet – again with one possible exception. Pear pressure made them do things they would never have done on their own.

Yet the large man was different. He didn't fit into the group. His leather jacket looked more expensive, and if Steve would have encountered him casually he wouldn't have looked at him twice. In these surroundings this made him suspicious.

Quickly Steve gauged the risks. The police officer who was lying on the floor unconscious and with a bloody gash at his temple tipped the scales.

"Out of here, all of you!" he commanded. "If any of you come back tonight you will face a charge of assault!"

The whole group left the barroom with lightning speed.

When the door had closed behind them with a loud bang Steve turned around and knelt down at the Sergeant's side.

"Ed?" he asked worriedly. Brown opened his eyes.

"Ed, can I leave you alone for a minute? I need to call an ambulance."

"No," whispered the detective hoarsely, and when Steve threw him a confused look he insisted: "_No_!"

"A possible back injury is not something to take lightly, you know," answered Steve reasonably.

"Just give me a minute," muttered the patient between clenched teeth.

Steve let him have his own way. Even though Brown had been wrong about trusting that nothing would happen, he still thought that the Sergeant might have his reasons this time.

A while later Ed made an attempt to sit up.

"Are you up to this?"

Ed nodded, absentmindedly wiping the blood from his head with the palm of his hand. Yet when he wanted to stand up Steve kept him back, demanding an explanation.

Sighing Ed answered: "That's only an old war injury. I hurt my back in Vietnam. I'm okay now."

"And what about the gash at your head?"

"Forget about that. I don't even feel it."

Steve didn't mention that this was probably only because his back hurt too much to feel anything else. He wet his handkerchief at the water faucet behind the bar and washed the blood away. Ed was right about that wound. A Band-Aid would do.

"Let's get out of here, before somebody comes back," he admonished.

Slowly Steve pulled Ed standing then helped him up the stairs, since he was still unsteady on his feet.

Of course Ed couldn't drive right now so Steve brought him home in his Porsche. When he left the Sergeant's apartment, Ed begged him: "Please don't tell the Chief what happened tonight, will you?"

"And what will you tell Ironside about your head? That you cut yourself shaving?"

Ed smirked. "That's about the size of it. Sometimes I run against doorframes. That's the downside of being tall."


	2. Chapter 2

**ch 2**

The next morning Steve picked a still pale Ed up and took him back to his Ford.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure," was the short answer, and then they talked about yesterday's baseball game.

Together they entered Ironside's office. In a few sentences Ed explained that it had not been possible to talk to the 'Tiger gang' about the drugs. He would give it another try later.

Ironside reacted angrily: "You won't tell me that the two of you were unable to get a couple of teenagers to talk?"

"Steve had nothing to do with that. I made him cover the entrance door because I didn't want any of them getting on my back," corrected Ed.

Consequently Steve wasn't at the receiving end of the following tirade. Ed merely nodded. He knew that he had made a mistake and he was ready to face his boss' wrath.

Steve felt bad for him, but also … ashamed. The Sergeant was some five years older than himself, and he was no dunce. Why didn't he say a word in his defense? Because his name was Brown, he wore a brown suit and didn't have the guts to offer any resistance to Chief Ironside?! He had to admit that this picture matched the one he'd originally had of Sergeant Brown: An always polite, straight-forward and completely unremarkable cop. Yet the competence the Sergeant had been showing during the past week and particularly last night's fight didn't fit into this picture… Steve didn't get it anymore.

Quietly Ed went to the stove and poured two cups of coffee, one for Steve and the other for himself. Then they talked about tracking down the unknown man in his twenties who had been with the group. He might well be a pusher. The fight was not mentioned.

Ironside had Steve and Ed go through the mug shots together. They could not identify the man, but there was a vague resemblance to an ex-con named Ronny Longwaters. Ironside decided that they should drive to his last known address. Again they used Steve's Porsche.

When the Sergeant was about to open the passenger's door Steve could not hold his fire anymore. "Ed, why did you let your boss bawl you out like that? That Longwaters or whoever was with those youngsters wasn't your fault, and it's not your fault that you were hurt in combat, that's no shame. Why didn't you say anything? I don't understand you."

Ed sat there motionless, the door handle still in his right hand. Against the window his square-jawed face looked stony. "I didn't feel like."

"Well, that's your decision. But you know that you endanger everybody you work with if you are not fit for an emergency because of your back, and your co-workers don't know about that!" Steve pushed.

For a second Brown closed his eyes and leaned back against the back rest, exasperated, probably also in pain. Steve thought that he might perhaps open up, but then he pulled himself together.

A very quick look out of his usually warm brown eyes hit Steve, and with an edgy shake of his head Ed grumbled: "You can stay back if you want."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!" shouted Steve irritated, but Ed had already opened the door and wriggled his long frame out of the sports car.

Steve could only shake his head and follow him to the indicated address.

The door plate said that Longwaters lived here all right.

But - he was not home.


	3. Chapter 3

**ch 3**

This evening Steve went to see Mike at the hospital. Mike was squirming around because he wanted to go home. "I'm fine! I don't understand why they are keeping me here longer than necessary!"

Nevertheless it didn't escape him that his young partner had something on his mind. "Now tell me, Buddy-boy, what is it what bothers you?"

Steve explained him Sergeant Brown's strange behavior and Ironside's rough way with him. "I just don't dig it. Ed was so different last night – he's quite a fighter, you know. But this morning he behaved like a coward. And why did he never tell Ironside about the aftereffects of his injury?"

"First of all, don't underestimate Ed Brown just because he looks brown and sounds brown. That's a mistake many a criminal has paid with his freedom." Mike smiled. "Believe me, Ironside would not have chosen him for his team if he weren't one of San Francisco's finest.  
Then you have to consider that the relationship between those two is very complicated. Probably Ed thinks that Ironside has enough on his mind without having to worry about him. Try to understand Ironside, like Ed does: confined to that wheelchair, dependent on the help of others – such a proud man. I'm sure that he is fond of his co-workers, but he can't show it to them openly. He needs a certain distance to his people because he is afraid that otherwise he might lose his authority. And I think that he is especially stern towards Ed because the Sergeant is kind of his crown prince. He wants Ed to follow in his steps. You and I know that he would perhaps accomplish more if he were friendlier towards Ed, since Brown tries hard to do what his idol expects from him anyway. But the leopard can't change its spots, as you know."

Mike sensed that he had given Steve food for thought.

Pensively the young inspector answered: "Ed must have felt like caught in the middle between Ironside and me. From both sides he got nothing but reproaches and pressure. No wonder he was embarrassed."

"You won't make the same mistake twice, Buddy-boy."

"No, I won't. But all the same – should he not tell Ironside about his back problems?"

"Yes he should. Yet I'm not sure whether he is afraid of what might happen if he would confess to such a weakness. It appears as if he's not very self-confident, and Ironside's frequent criticism doesn't help him to improve on that. Are you afraid of working with him because of his war injury?"

"Of course not!" Steve was a little offended.

"Then leave the problem to Ironside and his Sergeant."


	4. Chapter 4

**ch 4**

Steve's assignment for the next day came directly from Chief Ironside. They had the addresses of some members of the 'Tiger gang'. Steve should tail one of the younger ones, Charlie Ford, who went to high school. Early in the morning the young inspector waited behind a tree near the indicated address. The air was a little chilly and Steve pulled his jacket closer around his body.  
Suddenly a chubby boy of about seventeen years left the house. He was in no hurry. At the next crossroads he met a pretty red-haired girl. Chatting and laughing the two kids went on together, and Steve could follow them easily. Finally they had to run in order to catch the MUNI. Steve managed to get on board unseen. Near a big high-school they got out. The two split up.

Now Steve would find out if people were right when they said that he looked young, he thought. Quickly he combed his hair the way some of the boys on the campus wore it. Then he stepped deliberately into a dirty puddle to make his shoes look less shiny and followed Charlie.  
It was quite a challenge not to lose him between hundreds of teenagers. He almost lost track of him, but then he spotted him behind a corner of the gym. He was standing close to another, younger boy, and there was no doubt about what they were doing: Charlie put some cash into his pants pocket and handed a small package over to the other boy. The smaller boy put the package into his jacket pocket.

The school bell rang and the young people moved towards their classes. Steve decided to follow the second boy. Perhaps if he was lucky…

And he was: The boy took his jacket off before he went into his classroom and like most of his classmates he hung it in his locker.

Steve headed for the school office. He showed the principal his badge and asked for permission to open that particular locker. The principal was not naïve. Sighing he fetched the key at the school office and went with Steve to the locker in question.

Steve searched the jacket. The package wasn't even hidden but was just there in a pocket. Steve opened it. Immediately he recognized the white powder. Like he had been taught he tested it with the tip of his tongue. Deep in thoughts he closed the package, put it back and hung the jacket where he had found it.

"We can't warn the kids that we are on the scent of the stuff," he explained to the upset principal. "We want to know where the drugs come from."

Then he hurried back to headquarters.

Together with Ironside, Ed Brown was sitting at the octagonal table, coffee mugs in front of them. When Steve entered Ed stood up and got a third cup. This seemed to be some kind of a ritual in this office, under this no-nonsense Chief: whoever was welcome, thirsty, tired, in need of care or whatever… got a cup of coffee.

Steve reported what he had found out.

Ironside punched his fist onto the table, hard. Steve thought that he must have hurt himself. And what he read in the Chief's rugged, handsome face was pain… although not the kind of pain you feel when you hurt your hand.

"I so hoped those kids would stay clean of that kind of business. Once they are in it's very difficult to get them back on track…"

Again Steve was surprised about the range and intensity of feelings this man was able to show … sometimes.

An instant later his face hardened. "I want the people behind this. And I want them soon. Every day they keep going they destroy lives. We've _got_ to stop them. Sergeant, don't just sit there! You know Longwaters' address. He's the only suspect we have right now. Organize surveillance of his place!"

Step by step the dependable Sergeant showed Steve how this was to be done.  
Then Ironside had them check on Longwaters' connections, bank accounts, registrations with airlines and on possible visa. Steve thought that it was some tiresome work, but Brown and even Ironside himself seemed to do it without any aversion. It just had to be done.

The tailing of the 'Tiger gang'-members had to go on too. Yet this time Steve could not detect anything unusual.

"You can't always be the lucky one!" Mark smiled when he came back to Ironside's office-apartment and reported that.

The Chief was out of office.

Ed had found out that the deposits on Longwaters' bank account surmounted his salary as a salesperson by far.

Mark had been tailing another kid. This boy worked in a restaurant. Mark had 'got lost' in the basement. He had found the locker where the boy had left his personal clothes. In his pants pocket Mark had found a sketch of a location. He had reproduced it on a notebook.

"Did you have a search warrant?" asked Steve surprised.

Mark shrugged his shoulders.

Steve looked at Ed. He had heard rumors that Mark had been an ex-con. So he was probably capable of opening a lock without a key. Yet it was impossible that the straight-forward Sergeant would accept this 'modus operandi', even though Mark was no member of the force!

The Sergeant, who was leaning against the edge of the table, was playing with a pencil. It was only a tiny movement - but probably the equivalent of a hysterical attack for this calm man.  
When he saw the incredulous look on the novice's face his clean-cut features seemed to harden, and his voice sounded suddenly sharper than usual. "Listen, Steve – I know that this is not what you have learned at the academy. Don't think that I like what Mark did. We would not be allowed to use this paper in court. But that's not what we want anyway. We want to stop those kids _before_ they get into serious troubles, and we're running out of time."

When the Sergeant stretched his back uncomfortably Steve remembered how much he had been ready to risk himself for these boys. It was obvious that Ed felt torn between different requirements of what he considered to be his duty.

"The law is for the people and not vice versa – is that what you want to say?"

"Yes – but it's still very dangerous to take the law in your own hands, even if you think that you have the best possible reasons." The earnest in the Sergeant's voice made Steve understand that he would never disregard the law at haphazard. The boys had to be very important to him indeed.

Together they studied the drawing on Mark's notebook.

"Do you happen to know where this could be?" asked Ed.

Steve exclaimed: "I think I know the place! Where's your map?"

He was showing Ed and Mark the spot at the coast when Ironside rolled in.

The Chief had interesting news: Longwaters had travelled to Mexico several times. There he might or might not have been in contact with a local drug baron.

He didn't comment on the way Mark had got hold of the sketch.

"Ed, Steve – you drive out to the place on Mark's sketch. See if you can find any hint."


	5. Chapter 5

**ch 5**

An hour later Steve and Ed were standing on the cliff coast, hidden behind a rock. Through binoculars Ed observed a trail leading from the beachside upwards. A group of people were there, transporting something from a motor boat to a cave.

"I don't like that at all. That's probably the 'Tiger gang'. More than likely they are hiding drugs or something in that cave."

"We should hurry up to catch them in the act."

The Sergeant nodded reluctantly. Steve understood well that Ed hesitated because that way he would not be able to keep those kids out of the judicial machinery anymore… But as he took a close look at the slope he saw that Ed's reluctance had probably a second reason: there were several terraces one would have to jump down, and with his back problem the Sergeant would not be able to do that, at least not right now.

"Ed, I think I can get there in time. Don't even try to do it yourself, it's too dangerous."

Brown hesitated again. "I'm responsible for you, Steve."

"I will be hidden from the view of the kids for most of my way. Perhaps you can find a way for yourself further up and follow me."

"I have already seen a possibility, but I will need a lot longer. Please – be careful and wait as long as possible until you go in to give me the time to catch up."

Steve nodded. Unlike Ed the other day he would have his gun to control the youngsters. Jumping down the first terrace he began his decent. It was more challenging than he had thought it would be. Steve was a skilled climber though, and he used all his agility and sportsmanship to get to that cave as fast as possible. Four yards above the cave he paused. The kids could perhaps have spotted him, but they were absorbed in their task at hand.

The dive downwards was high and dangerous. If he landed in a bad angle he would doubtlessly get hurt. Yet since it looked as if the transport was almost finished Steve didn't waver any longer and jumped. He landed hard, but perfectly well on his two feet. Instantly he pulled his gun.

"Police! Hands up and move towards the rocks!" he shouted, and frightened the kids receded as he had told them.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement in the cave. Before he was able to react, a gun went off and a searing pain ripped through his right arm. With a clattering sound his gun hit the ground.

With a grim look on his face Ronny Longwaters stepped out of the cave. "Now, baby-cop – what are we going to do with you? You don't expect us to let you live as a witness against us, do you?"

The teenagers seemed to awaken from their numbness. They approached to the injured inspector.

Longwaters went on: "Max, pick up that gun!"

"Who, me?" asked startled one of the boys.

"Do you see another Max around here? Pick up the gun and shoot the bloody cop."

Max lingered, but took another step towards Steve.

Steve's heart skipped a beat: there was nothing he could do if the boy really wanted to shoot him.

Then he saw Ed Brown sneaking down onto the last terrace above them. He would not want to jump down there with his sore back, would he? What did he think he would accomplish with that?

Yet Ed let himself fall onto Longwaters, the impact throwing the heavier man to the ground. For a second Steve was unsure if one of them would get up – and if so, which one.  
The boys only watched the scene, petrified.

Then Ed stood up, though clumsily. He kicked Longwaters' gun into the cave. The man didn't budge; he seemed to be dazed, if not unconscious.

Brown put his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back, so that the kids could see that his gun rested safely in his belt and that he was not willing to use it.

"Look, Max," he addressed the boy next to Steve, "this is your decision now. You can pick up that gun on the ground and shoot my colleague and perhaps me too. Or you can leave it there and face the consequences of helping Longwaters with those drugs. This decision will influence your whole life. It will make you a criminal or a man who can take responsibility. What kind of life do you want?"

He took a step back to let Max room for his decision, but his eyes rested firmly on the boy's face.

For a moment Steve was unsure if Ed hadn't misjudged the situation again, but then his calm presence clinched it for the boy. He bent down, picked the gun up and surrendered it to Ed.

"I'm sorry, Sir. We didn't want anybody to get hurt. What happens now?"

"Now you put these manacles around Longwaters' wrists." He clicked them off his belt.

Only when this was done Ed stepped over to Steve. "Let me see your arm. How bad is it?"

The wound was still bleeding. "It's only a graze, I think. I was lucky that Longwaters is a bad shot," Steve smiled, although somewhat forcedly. He didn't want to sound like a wimp. To him it was evident that the Sergeant was in pain too, but being older and used to it he seemed better capable of hiding it. He didn't bring up the subject though. Brown needed all his authority to master the situation. If Longwaters and the boys knew that neither of the two police officers was quite at his best they might still get into trouble.

"Can you drive a boat with your left hand?" asked Ed.

Steve could, and after Ed had dressed Steve's arm, they went back to town with the whole group of youngsters and the prisoner. Only Steve knew that the Sergeant didn't just rest his back against the side of the boat because he thought that it looked cool…

Reaching the marina Ed sent Steve to a doctor, after he had called for back-up.

When Steve came back to headquarters with his right arm in a sling Brown was just finishing the formalities around Longwaters' arrest. He looked much better already. The 'Tiger gang' had been questioned and sent home.

Together they went up to Ironside's office.

As it was to be expected the Chief listened to the Sergeant's report very critically.  
"What took you so long? You were almost too late to catch the gang dead to rights. Only minutes later and we wouldn't have any proof."

Ed nodded. The ringing of the phone spared him an answer though: He had to go down to the garage to hand over the keys of the boat they had used.

Steve was full of indignation about this - in his eyes - unjust accusation. He made use of being alone with the feared Chief.  
"Sir, with all due respect – you were not there! Sergeant Brown did his duty and more than that. He got the youngsters to the point of considering what was right or wrong, and they chose to do the more difficult, but honest thing. Don't you think he has earned some recognition instead of just criticism?"

Ironside smiled inwardly about the Inspector's indignation, yet this didn't show on his face when he grumbled: "Stop improving my character, young man!"

When Ed came back, Ltd. Mike Stone was with him.

After they had welcomed one another, relieved that everybody was still more or less intact, Ironside went back to the cringeworthy interrogation of his Sergeant.

"Now why did you stay back and let a rookie go ahead? You were the one in charge!" he attacked Brown. "You were lucky that nothing worse happened to him."

"I'm very sorry that you were hit, Steve," said Ed softly, and after a close look at his new friend, "…and I have to confess to something. It's this back-problem I brought home from 'nam. I can carry heavy weights and do almost everything. It's just when I get hit, or when I do some movements like jumps… Well, that's why." He didn't look up.

That way he didn't catch that Ironside looked relieved, not angry, although his voice still sounded enraged.

"Don't you think I read your medical file when you started working with me? I knew that from the beginning. I always hoped that one day you would trust me enough to tell me. Why do you think I chose you to work with me? Because you were a knight in shining armor, or because of your impressive fighting qualities? Forget it!"

"So it was because I brought you a bottle of whiskey when you were in the hospital?" Ed made an attempt to make light of the situation, since he was already feeling embarrassed.

"Exactly that!" shouted Ironside, unable to hide the sparkle in his eyes.

When everybody broke out in laughter he added: "I wondered how long Ed would take to understand that I want people with brains around me… considering that normally there is nothing wrong with his quick wits. _Normally_!"

Mark was about to serve some chili, but Steve started to hum and haw. "Well, as a matter of fact… I was intending to go on a date… Ed, I thought if you are feeling well enough to drive… my girlfriend Robin…"

"…She happens to have a sister?" asked Ironside acridly.

Steve nodded.

Thirty seconds later the two 'Casanovas' were out of the door.

While Mark had retreated into his room to do his homework the more seasoned gentlemen enjoyed themselves with a glass of Ironside's best bourbon.

Mike thought of how good a team the two young officers were: The tall and the shorter one, the dark and the light-haired, the introverted and the outgoing, the quiet and the agile one… and yet so similar: the new generation of college-educated, bright and still modest young men.

"They are quite a couple of boys, our boys, aren't they?"

Ironside nodded, grinning widely: "Yes, they are. But don't _ever_ repeat that when they can hear it!"

* * *

_Author's note: This story interferes with the personal "fanon" in my Ironside stories on ._

_Thanks again, dear Jodm, for correcting the worst of my mistakes! Thank you, dear readers, for reading and reviewing!_


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